


the next life

by chibistarlyte



Series: TWEWYtober 2018 [4]
Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Angst, Chronic Illness, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, TWEWYTOBER 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 20:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16562567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibistarlyte/pseuds/chibistarlyte
Summary: Was there a such thing as an afterlife if one barely had a life to begin with?Joshua wanted to find out the answer.





	the next life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for TWEWYtober day 7: afterlife.
> 
> This fic loosely references a headcanon I have that Joshua was very sickly when he was alive, which I touch on somewhat in my fic Neku and Joshua's Alphabet Adventures. Reading that fic is in no was necessary to understand this one, though.
> 
> Enjoy!

Was there a such thing as an afterlife if one barely had a life to begin with?

Joshua wanted to find out the answer.

He couldn't stop his sickness, he knew that. Had known that. The doctors hadn't even expected him to make it to eleven, let alone fifteen. Yet here he was, a medical anomaly who had no idea why he was even still here. He visited Wildkat as often as he could, but with his declining health, the trips to Cat Street became fewer and fewer. On his most recent visit, he actually had to use his crutch for mobility, which left Hanekoma looking a bit worried for his young patron.

Joshua had told Hanekoma about him being chronically ill--had confided a lot on the barista, actually, more than any other person on the planet--but this was the first time he ever had been obvious about his condition.

“Y’okay, boss?” the stubbled man asked as he slid Joshua a steaming mug of his unique house blend.

Joshua didn't answer at first, just stared lifelessly at the countertop. His lilac eyes seemed dull, distant. Finally, in a voice quieter and more dejected than Hanekoma had ever heard the kid sound, he said, “I don't know if I can do this anymore...I don't know if I _want_ to.”

Hanekoma was about to say something when a pair of girls came into the shop, chattering their way up to the counter. He put on his casual, hip face and took their orders while Joshua sipped silently at his coffee.

When the girls left the shop, warm drinks in hand, Joshua’s eyes followed them out the door. Their outlines shifted just barely as they left the establishment, seeming almost...static at the edges. But both Joshua and Hanekoma could see them.

“Josh,” the barista said in a voice that was uncharacteristically serious for him. “Whatever you're thinking, don't. You don't wanna be a part of this.”

The silver haired boy rapped his knuckles lightly on the countertop. “Don't I?” he said bitterly, and not from the coffee. “Anything is better than _this_.” He gestured to his crutch propped up against the counter.

“Josh,” Hanekoma repeated, this time more like a warning. “Listen to me. Don't throw your life away for no reason.”

A mirthless laugh passed between chapped lips. “What life?” was all Joshua said before he downed the rest of his coffee. He slammed the mug down on the counter with a sense of finality, like he had made his mind up about something. He hobbled off his stool, standing unsteadily on his legs. He grabbed his crutch and tucked the padded grip beneath his armpit and left the cafe with determination in his weakened steps.

The next time Hanekoma saw him, Joshua looked livelier than he had ever seen him. The irony left a bitter taste in the barista’s mouth.


End file.
